Her Favorite Story
by NumberCDLI
Summary: Cherche tells her daughter her favorite story. [Sci-Fi AU]
1. Her Story: Rosanne

**My previous one-shot had a darker theme to it. This one is not dark and is instead more fluff.**

 **Technically, this should be a two-shot, given how there's two chapters to it, or even a six-shot since there's six 'arcs'. Then again, that just sounds dumb.**

 **Story split in two so that you guys won't read some ~15k words in one chapter. Enjoy.**

 **Cover art: Pigsomedom  
Pixiv id: 13707785**

 _ **. . .**_

* * *

 _ **. . .**_

A content sigh joined the crackles and pops from the fireplace as Cherche sank into her favorite chair. Her book sat unopened on her lap as she closed her eyes, relishing the small moment of silence.

"Mom?"

A soft voice called out to her from across the room. She saw a mess of dark hair peek around the corner as she turned her head.

"Morgan?" Cherche's brow furrowed in concern. "What are you doing up so late?"

The young girl shuffled into the room. "I couldn't sleep."

Cherche set her book aside and motioned for Morgan to sit on her lap. Once Morgan climbed up, Cherche noticed that she was trembling slightly, and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked.

Morgan didn't answer and leaned back, sinking into her mother's warmth.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" Cherche gently offered, and Morgan nodded. "Which story would you like to hear? The Lost Shepherd? The Four Heroes? The Little Dreamer?"

"…How you and dad met."

Cherche laughed softly. "But you already heard that one a bunch of times!"

"I like it. It's my favorite."

She laughed again and shifted Morgan's weight so that she would be more comfortable in her lap. "Alright then. It was many years ago on a dark and rainy night."

. . .

The first time that Cherche met him, it was during her fourth month as one of Rosanne's Enforcers, a well-renowned peacekeeping group that was known to have absurdly high standards and requirements to join. They weren't called Rosanne's elites for no reason, after all.

Cherche looked down at her Enforcer outfit again for the hundredth time. It was simple enough: a gel-layered black bodysuit worn underneath thin, multi-alloy armor plates. The plates were painted in a black and grey camouflage pattern and covered the vital parts of her body while also leaving enough room for flexibility.

As she was still fairly new into the Enforcers, she was delegated to a more experienced member. Said member was Pheros, a beautiful woman with wavy, golden hair. She was currently conversing with someone through a private communications line in her standard issue Enforcer helmet, which had a tinted visor covering the top half of her face.

"…I see. Understood. We'll get it done." Pheros turned her head to look at Cherche, who immediately stood to attention. Her steel-grey eyes seemed to pierce through the polarized visor. "There's a Code R-07 on 23rd and Fitz St."

With a curt nod, the two Enforcers got into their vehicle. The ride was silent as Pheros navigated the dimly lit streets of Rosanne. The only sources of light were from the bright neon signs and glowing billboards that were hanging on the sides of buildings, with a few more lights coming from the other vehicles on the road.

During the fifteen minute drive, rain started pouring from the skies and Cherche thought about their current task. Codes in the R section was to deal with any gang-related problems in Rosanne, but they were so far and few in between that it was rarely issued. However, only a fool would think that the two warring factions, the White Lotus and Debellators, didn't exist. The two gangs were just smart enough to keep out of public sight.

Code R-07, in particular, was when there was a sign, or a potential sign, of conflict between the two factions. A gang fight, in layman's terms.

When they arrived at the cross streets, Cherche was barely able to see the other Enforcer teams that were already on site. Black and grey camo patterns worked well in the night rain. Each one of them was holding a long, steel cylinder which held a compacted weapon of their personal make. With a click of a button on the case's handle, the case would open and their weapon would spring out of the case and into their hands in a second.

"Ah, Pheros!" A man with teal-colored hair noticed the two of them upon their approach. "It does me well to see you here."

"Likewise, Virion," Pheros smiled. She tapped a button on the side of her helmet and her visor depolarized. "I see that the general isn't taking any risks this time around, sending this many Enforcers."

"Aye. General Kryuger may be many things, but a fool is not one of them," Virion agreed. His eyes then locked with Cherche's. "Cherche, was it? I've seen your file and I must say, I am looking forward to seeing you rise in our ranks, especially since you're under Pheros' tutelage. She is one of our finest."

"Thank you, Commander Virion." Cherche gave the man a smart salute. "I promise to - "

 _*CRASH*_

There was the sound of glass shattering in one of the alleys down the block. Panicked voices were heard as well over the falling rain.

"Enforcers, move! Get to your pairs and advance from all sides! Do not let these upstarts get away!" Virion ordered.

"Come, Cherche!" Pheros said.

The group of Enforcers immediately began moving. Two pairs ran into the alleyway while Pheros and Cherche used their suit's friction-boots to scale the nearest building. Once they got to the building's roof, Cherche fought down the queasiness in her stomach. Running up walls was something that she'd never get used to.

Before she could get a grip on her surroundings, Pheros tackled her to the ground. Not even a second later, heat washed over her back as a fireball flew overhead.

"Tome users, stay on your toes," Pheros informed her as she stood to her feet.

Tomes were a relatively new device that was released to the public a year ago. They looked like a slim, metallic bracelet and glove that allowed the user to wield the destructive power of fire. There were a number of buttons on the wrist interface that performed a variety of actions, such as increasing or decreasing the amount of flames that'd be used per cast, and the largest button near the front of the device would let the user shoot out flames from a crystalline circle in the center of the glove's palm.

There was a metallic click and Pheros' weapon, a two-meter-long bo staff, sprung to life in her hands. Cherche heard that it was a prototype model as it was the only weapon in the Enforcers' inventory that had a tome installed in it. Swiftly tapping a few buttons near the center of the staff, Pheros swung her weapon and released a fireball of her own from its jeweled tip.

"There's a few of them running away! Go after them!" Pheros ordered, pointing at three retreating figures jump off the side of the building. "I'll handle the Tome users and catch up!"

"Understood!"

Cherche quickly ran after the fleeing gang members. Although her back was turned towards the tome users, she had full confidence that her superior would be able to keep her safe and jumped onto the roof of another building.

She chased them for a few blocks, steadily decreasing the distance with each building. The wind whistled in her ears and the rain slightly obscured her vision, but she pressed on. She had one advantage that they didn't, and that was that she didn't have to bother wasting time when climbing a taller building thanks to her friction-boots. The gang members had to find footholds in order to climb while she could just run vertically, saving her a few precious seconds each time.

A few minutes into the chase, the gang members shared a quick look with one another before sharply turning towards the side of the building and jumped off, causing her to lose sight of them instantly.

Cherche followed them off the building without a second thought. When she landed on the ground, she immediately found herself surrounded by a dozen gang members, each of them with some sort of weapon in hand. One of them even had a tome, evident by the burning glow in his hand.

"Persistent one, aren't cha?" one of them sneered. "Well, not that I don't like it."

She didn't bother replying. She clicked the button on her case's handle and her battle axe appeared in her hands. Holding her weapon up in a defensive stance, her eyes darted around as she looked for an escape route.

"Y'know, we honestly didn't wanta bring you Enforcers into this," the man continued, the red wolf's head on his sleeve becoming visible as he took a small step forward. It was the mark of the Debellators. "It was s'pposed to be just us 'n those damned Lotus in a friendly dispute over some territory. No need to bring you Enforcer folks into this, but - "

The man didn't have time to finish talking as Cherche lunged forward and embedded her axe into his chest. The others looked stunned at the sudden action and she used the surprise to her advantage and was able to take down another.

"Damn it! Get her!"

Despite her best efforts, there was only so much that Cherche could do in her situation. In the narrow alley, the size of her weapon worked against her and she was quickly disarmed. She was backed against a wall with a nasty stab wound in her side and leg where her armor didn't cover, but she was at least able to take down three more before being cornered by the remaining eight.

Just as the nearest Debellator raised a sickle-like weapon to finish her off, there was a brief flash of bronze and he crumpled to his knees.

Time seemed to freeze upon his death as all eyes landed on the short sword that was sticking out of the Debellators neck. And then there was movement.

From the shadows of a nearby building, a masked man in a hooded coat walked out, holding onto a chain that was attached to the end of the sword. The chain rattled ominously as he calmly approached them, and his footsteps could be heard clearly, despite the torrential rain.

With a forceful tug, the sword was wrenched out of the Debellator's neck and back into the stranger's.

"Oh…crap…" one of the Debellator's fearfully whispered. "It's him."

Another Debellator cursed under his breath. "Why's he here of all places! What do we do, KG? Run or fight?"

KG looked at him with fear evident in his eyes. "Why are you asking me?!"

"You're the next in line after Sten, and he's got an axe in his chest, courtesy of Miss Enforcer over here!"

KG's eyes narrowed onto Cherche and he grinned. "The Enforcer…we use her."

A third Debellator rolled his eyes. "Now ain't the time to delve into your damn fetishes, KG!"

"Not that, shit-for-brains! I'm saying take her hostage to escape with our lives!"

"Why not just fight?" a fourth sneered. "It's just one guy."

"Newbie, shut your trap," the second Debellator said. "If we fight, we die. If we run, we only might die."

Cherche's eyes widened at that. She didn't know who the stranger was, but he might be her only chance of survival if what the Debellators were saying was true. Unfortunately for her, one of the Debellator grabbed her before she could do anything, causing her wounds to flare in pain, and held a knife to her throat. The rest of them quickly moved behind her to use her as a shield.

"Now now, there's no need for hostilities here, see?" KG said to the masked stranger. "How's a deal? You let us go and we give you the woman. We get to live another day while you get to rescue a damsel in distress. Win-win, no?"

The stranger didn't say anything as he stared at them. Cherche would be lying if she said she wasn't unnerved by the man. His mask was entirely blank without any features, not even nose holes nor eye sockets, but she had this distinct feeling that he was staring directly at her.

"H-Hey, come on… Say something, damn it!"

It was clear that she wasn't the only one that was on edge. The Debellators were wildly looking back and forth between KG and the stranger until one of them snapped.

"Just screw it! I'ma kill him!"

The hotheaded Debellator didn't even make it three steps past Cherche before the stranger's sword embedded itself in his head. With another tug on the chain, the sword started to fly back towards the stranger.

Upon seeing his death, the Debellator holding her never got a chance to move his knife when a second sword from the stranger came in from the side and stabbed his temple. The stranger was in front of her, so for the sword to come in from the side was seemingly impossible.

Then the stranger sprinted towards them, throwing the remaining five into a frantic panic. Three Debellators ran at the stranger while two started to flee. A thrown sword took care of one while the second sword was already back in the stranger's hand. A tug of the chain and two slashes with the second sword later, the three attacking Debellators were down, two from sliced jugulars and the third from the first sword sticking out of his back.

Cherche then watched as the stranger twirled one of his swords by the chain before letting it fly at the fleeing man. The chain that connected the swords seemed to extend forever as the blade lodged itself just below the fleeing Debellator's neck.

 _"Cherche! Cherche, are you there?!"_ Pheros' voice blared through her helmet's speakers, startling her.

"Affirmative, ma'am," Cherche replied after catching her breath.

She heard Pheros let out a sigh of relief. _"What's the situation?"_

"The fleeing Debellators have been taken care of by myself and - " Cherche looked around for the stranger, only to find herself alone in the midst of a dozen bodies.

 _"Is something wrong?"_

"…No…" Cherche slowly answered. "The Debellators, twelve of them, are either dead or incapacitated at my location."

 _"Come again, Cherche? Did you say 'twelve'?"_

"Affirmative. However, I had help from a stranger. He's gone now, though."

 _"I see."_ There was a hint of disappointment in Pheros' voice. _"Stay where you are. We'll come to you."_

"Yes, ma'am."

The line clicked off after that.

With a tired sigh, Cherche reached up and pulled her helmet off her head, wincing as the action caused her wounds to flare in pain once more. She set her helmet down on her lap and let her hand fall to her side. It was then that her fingers brushed against something that was cool to the touch.

She looked down and saw that the 'something' was a small bottle of medicine. And not just any medicine. This was an elixir from Ylisse, a city that was known for their expertise in medical arts. Expensive, potent, and difficult to produce.

As she took a small gulp of the medicine, she had a single thought in her head.

 _'Who are you, stranger…?'_

. . .

Nearly two and a half years passed since that night. Cherche was nearing her third year in the Enforcers, and during that short time, she was able to climb the ranks to Commander, and now only answered to Pheros and General Kryuger himself.

No longer relegated to a senior Enforcer, Cherche was given to option to move around solo unless a Code came up. As there was no Code up at the moment, she walked out of the office building and towards her personal motorbike that she called Minerva, and it had a drawing of a wyvern engraved onto its body. It sported one large wheel in the front and two slightly smaller tires on the back with polished black metal over gilded components

She climbed onto Minerva and put on her helmet. The engine purred to life and she began cruising down the streets of Rosanne, mentally thanking Pheros once more for the wonderful gift.

As she maneuvered her motorbike between lanes of traffic, she kept her eye out for any signs of the turf war between the White Lotus and the Debellators. Though they remained in the shadows, for the most part, they've been getting more aggressive and bold in the past few months. It was subtle at first: a small appearance of Debellators here, the flower marking of the White Lotus painted onto a store's front there, but Cherche had stumbled across a territorial fight between the two factions just last week.

The fight was held in another alley, and Cherche learned from the events of _that_ night. Her weapon was too large to use in tight areas, so she took a page out of the masked stranger's book and had the weaponsmiths modify her axe. Now, instead of just being a large axe, the entire weapon would split into two with a mere twist of the handle. The long handle would fold on itself as it split, giving her two hand axes for ease of use.

With her modified weapon and the help of a few more Enforcer teams, the fight was settled quickly, but there was no sign of the masked man. Not once ever since that first night. After that mission debriefing, General Kryuger gave the masked stranger the alias "White" due to the blank, white mask that Cherche saw him in, and was given the order to not attack upon sight. The general's reasoning was that White could be a valuable asset to the Enforcers should he ally with them, however, he could easily be a dangerous individual to all of Rosanne if he was to be their enemy.

Letting out a tired sigh, Cherche pulled up next to a bakery-cafe and took off her helmet. She opened a hidden compartment by the sides of her front wheel and pulled out her axe in its cylindrical case. After magnetically attaching it to her back, she began walking towards the cafe's doors.

Just as she was about to enter, she bumped into someone that was leaving.

"Oh! My apologies," Cherche cordially said. "I was lost in thought."

The person she bumped into was a man that looked to be around her age, though she was questioning it due to the man's silver-grey hair. Perhaps it was dyed?

"The fault is mine," the man replied politely. "I was not paying attention to where I was going. Are you unharmed?"

"I'm quite alright, thank you very much," Cherche smiled. "Pleasant day to you."

"And to you."

After the man walked down the street, she entered the store and was seated within a minute. The waitress came and left with her order, and Cherche leaned back against the cushioned chair. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander off.

"Cherche? Is that you?"

A soft voice brought her out of her reverie. She looked up and saw a woman with bright green eyes and flowing auburn hair. She was in a white dress that reached her ankles that was complemented by a navy colored jacket.

"Ah, it is you!" the woman smiled. "It's been a while!"

"Springfield," Cherche smiled back.

Springfield pouted as she sat on the seat across the table. "I thought I told you to call me by my first name. Everyone already calls me Springfield, so I want at least you to call me by my given name."

"If you wish, Aria."

"By the way, I saw you as you entered the store. Are you doing okay?" Aria's eyes were furrowed in concern. "You're normally so aware of your surroundings. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I'm…" A frown settled on Cherche's face. She was about to say that she was fine, but now that she thought about it… "I'm just feeling a little tired. I think the stress from work is getting to me a bit."

"I'm not surprised. We've barely had any time to meet with each other lately because you're always getting Codes and such," Aria huffed, pointing a finger at her and tracing a small circle in her direction. "You're paler than the last time I saw you and you've bags under your eyes."

Cherche rolled her eyes. "Thank you for letting me know that I look terrible. Every girl loves being told that."

"I know," Aria giggled. "Which is why I brought you this to go alongside my compliment to you."

As if on cue, a waitress walked over and placed a small plate of muffins on the table with a cup of coffee.

"Maple pecan muffins!" Aria proudly said. "They've been my best selling pastry for the past two weeks!"

Cherche took a bite out of one and her eyes slightly widened in pleasant surprise. The muffin was fluffy and light while also not being too sweet. The pecans and sugar topping added a delightful, crispy crunch to it.

"I can see why. They're delicious."

"Thank you," Aria softly laughed. "Robin said the same thing about them the other day, which was a bit of a shocker. Did you know that it was the first time that he ever said something was delicious? He said that my other pastries were good, but never delicious. I'm honestly not sure if that's an insult or a compliment. It's really hard to tell with him."

"Robin?" Cherche curiously asked.

"Oh, I thought you already knew him. He's the one that you bumped into while walking in here."

Cherche shook her head. "Today was the first time meeting him."

"My, that's a surprise," Aria said. "He started coming here just around the same time you did and has been a regular ever since. I was positive that the two of you knew each other."

"Mm…" Cherche curled a finger over her lips. "It is possible that we may have passed by one another, but I'm sure that we've never interacted until today."

Aria brought her hands together with a warm smile. "You should try talking to him when you get the chance. Robin doesn't talk much, _"no more than necessary"_ , he says, but whenever he does, he's really soft-spoken. I'm sure the two of you will get along swimmingly."

Cherche sighed. This wasn't the first time that Aria tried to introduce her to a man. "I'll take your word for it. The next time that I come across him and I have time to spare, I'll try and have a conversation with Robin."

"That's all I ask. Now eat your muffins before they get cold!"

. . .

A few months later, Cherche received another Code R alert, only this one was a little different than the rest. The Enforcer pair that sent out the alert were only two months into the force and was supposed to be stationed in a relatively safe district of Rosanne. To make things even more confusing, they said that it was might not even be a Code R because they weren't sure if the person they were engaged with was a member of either gang.

Nonetheless, Cherche was driving down the neon-lit streets of Rosanne towards the location of the Enforcers. When she arrived at the site, she was confused at the lack of sound. Most Code R's involved the Enforcers engaging in combat with either the White Lotus or Debellators, maybe even both, so not hearing any sounds of fighting was worrying.

Parking Minerva off to the side of the road, she pulled out her twin axes from the bike's hidden compartments and began walking towards the four blue dots on her visor's heads-up display.

 _'Why do all of these Code R's take place in alleyways…'_

With a tired sigh, Cherche quickly made her way towards the other Enforcers. Two turns later, she saw the familiar outfits of four Enforcers in the midst of a bunch of still bodies of White Lotus and Debellator members. They were standing in a rough semicircle with their backs turned towards her.

One of them noticed her approach and gave her a salute. "Commander!"

"Report," Cherche ordered.

The other three quickly stood at attention in the presence of a superior officer.

"Yes, ma'am. We've cornered someone that we think to be a member of either the Debellators or the White Lotus, but we're not entirely sure," one of the Enforcers said.

Cherche frowned. "Explain."

The Enforcer began fidgeting on the spot. "W-Well…he's not sporting neither their colors nor marking…and he fights…strangely. Like he's only reacting to what we do, which is why we were standing here and waiting for you to arrive. He's…well, he's right here."

The Enforcers stepped aside to give Cherche a view of the person they found. When Cherche saw the man, she froze.

One of the Enforcers noticed this and raised a question. "Is something wrong, Commander?"

Cherche was silent for a brief moment. Then she took in a deep breath, and without taking her eyes off the man in front of her, she spoke to her Enforcers. "Three years ago, General Kryuger added a new order into Section 7 - the _only_ new order that's been added since the founding of the Enforcers. Do you know what that new order is?"

" _'Any Enforcer that comes across a War Potential while out in the field is not to engage them in combat, but is to try and recruit them into the Enforcers without the use of aggression'_ ," the Enforcer recited.

"Correct. And do you know how many War Potentials are listed in the database?"

"O-One."

"Correct again." Cherche's voice grew colder with each passing second. "Now, do you remember the description for the only War Potential in our database?"

"Twin swords connected by a chain, a dark coat with a hood, a-and…" The Enforcer's face paled under his visor as did the other three's. "…a blank, white…mask."

Cherche turned her gaze onto the Enforcers and gave them an icy smile. "With all that in mind, would you care to explain as to why you engaged the War Potential in combat?"

The Enforcer nervously took a step back. "I… We didn't think… M-My apologies, Commander. It did not cross our minds at the time."

"…Report back to HQ. I'll take it from here."

The four Enforcers didn't wait to be told twice. They gave her a quick salute and all but ran away from the scene, leaving Cherche alone with White, who hadn't taken a single step since her arrival. His swords were raised in a defensive stance; one was held in a forward grip in front of him while the second was in a reverse grip by his side. There'd be little point in attempting to recruit him in this state.

"We meet again," Cherche said to White. "Do you remember me?"

White said nothing from behind his mask.

"It was three years ago. I was only four months into the Enforcers when you saved me from the Debellators. You left before I knew it, leaving behind nothing but a Ylissean elixir, which saved me from bleeding out before help arrived. I know this is three years late, but I wish to offer you my thanks for what you've done."

Cherche took off her helmet, allowing her hair to flow freely down her back, and bowed deeply towards White. When she looked back up, he was in the same position as before.

A soft laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. "You know, I half expected you to disappear during the brief moment my eyes were off you. Which reminds me, why didn't you run away from the Enforcers? With the skill and dexterity you displayed three years ago, you should've had no problem escaping four Enforcers, new ones at that."

A few seconds of silence passed as White said nothing. Cherche held back a sigh.

"I suppose I'm in no position to ask you for your intentions," she said. "In any case…"

She trailed off when White lowered his arms. In a fluid motion, he hooked both swords by their pommels by his waist and started to walk deeper into the alley. When Cherche remained rooted to her spot, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

"You…want me to follow you?" she guessed.

White nodded.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Cherche followed White as he lead her further into the alleyway. Pheros and Aria would've no doubt reprimanded her for following a stranger alone, in an alley, no less, but she eased that thought out of her mind. If White wanted to harm or assault her, then he would've done it by now. He had the perfect opportunity three years ago. She was wounded and practically defenseless while he was in perfect form.

Though she didn't fully trust him, Cherche trusted him enough to confidently say that White wasn't a vile man. A vile person wouldn't give a Ylissean elixir to a random person.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until White stopped in front of a worn-down wall. It looked no different from the others around her until White pushed on one of the countless bricks. A portion of the wall started to move by itself.

"A hidden door…" Cherche quietly gasped.

She followed White inside through the door, which began closing by itself when she was only a few steps inside, slowly engulfing her in darkness. The very second that the door fully shut, there was a thin beam of light that split the dark ceiling in front of her in half before it slowly started to widen. As the light grew and the darkness receded, Cherche was pleasantly surprised by the room she found herself in.

There was a black and red corner couch in one corner of the room with a glass table in front of it. A wall that ran down the middle of the room which had a TV screen built into it, and on the other side of the wall was a kitchen. There was a set of stairs across the room that led to a second floor.

White took off his shoes and placed them onto a rack beside her before walking into the room. Following his example, Cherche did the same with her boots. It took her about half a minute since her Enforcer suit had multiple buckles and straps. Once her feet were free of her combat boots, she couldn't help wiggle her toes as they expressed their freedom from confinement.

Mostly. Her feet were still covered by her bodysuit.

"This is your house," she said, looking around. It wasn't a question.

White nodded, and Cherche had to admit that she was a little jealous. Even with her pay as an Enforcer Commander, it'd be difficult for her to own a suite like this.

 _'Curse the upper-east side of Rosanne and their inflated housing prices.'_

Keeping that one thought to herself, she asked him, "I get that the Enforcers were near your house, but couldn't you just have led them away before coming back? And the White Lotus and Debellator members… Couldn't you have easily escaped them as well?"

Before White could give her an answer, not that she expected one, there was a series of rapid thuds from above her.

 _'Footsteps,'_ Cherche quickly realized. _'From the sounds of it, two people.'_

The footsteps made their way over to the direction of the stairs and the owners rapidly descended the steps. She gasped when she saw two children, no older than the age of six, emerge from the stairs. One girl and one boy, twins from the looks of it.

"Daddy!"

The twins cheerfully ran over to White and latched themselves onto his legs.

That caught Cherche completely off-guard. White was a father of two? Granted, she never saw his face, and therefore never got a grasp on his age, but she never expected him to have kids! And how did the kids know that it was their father from behind the mask? Did he wear the mask so often to the point that they'd recognize it on sight?

"Adopted."

…What?

It took Cherche more than a few seconds to realize that White just spoke. It took her another second for the word he said to register in her head. By the time it did, the twins hid behind White's legs and poked their heads out to look at her.

Due to the revelation of finally hearing White speak, the fact that he seemed to read her mind slipped from her thoughts.

"Daddy? Who's the flower lady?" the boy asked White. "Is she bad? Is she going to take us away like the other bad men?"

"What? No, of course not!" Cherche quickly answered, horrified at the thought that someone would force kids away from their parents, adoptive or not. "I'm here to…" She paused. Why was she here exactly?

"Flower Lady is a nice lady," White said. Cherche could've sworn that she heard him stifle a laugh from behind his mask. It also only clicked that she was being called 'Flower Lady' due to the rose that was painted onto her shoulder's armor plating. "She's a good person. She won't take you away."

As White spoke to his adoptive son, something poked at Cherche's mind. His voice sounded familiar. She heard his voice before, but she couldn't remember when or where she heard it, much to her vexation.

The boy looked up at his father. "Promise?"

"I promise." White playfully ruffled the twins' hair. "I need to talk with Flower Lady for a little while, so head on upstairs, alright?"

"Okay!"

With a million-watt smile, the boy ran upstairs. The girl, however, continued to stare at Cherche from behind her father's leg with a small fist covering her mouth. It wasn't until White gently tapped the girl's shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod that she followed her brother, but not before giving Cherche one last glance as she made her way up the stairs.

When the girl was gone, White turned his head and looked at her.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"If it isn't too much trouble," Cherche replied.

"Cream and sugar?

"Please."

He gestured over to the couch for her to sit, a gesture that she accepted. As White walked over to his kitchen and started his brew, she thought about the possible reasons as to why he chose to fight and why he decided to bring her here.

Then it finally clicked as the aroma of brewing coffee filled the room.

"You didn't run because you were worried about them," Cherche quietly said. "While the chance was small, you didn't want either gang to discover your house, so you fought them. By the time you were done, the Enforcers arrived."

As usual, White only gave her a nod.

"But wouldn't that work against you? If either gang realized that you stood your ground instead of running, they might come to the conclusion that you're protecting something, which you are. If they have that idea, then they might send even more members to this area to find whatever it is that you're protecting."

"It doesn't matter," White simply replied, walking over and handing her a cup of coffee. He himself wasn't drinking any.

Cherche's brow furrowed. "…What do you mean?"

"We're leaving Rosanne."

For some odd reason, Cherche felt saddened upon hearing those words. She took a sip of her coffee. It could rival Aria's coffee, and her coffee ranked first among all the ones that she tried over the years.

"When?" she asked after another sip.

"By the end of this week."

"To where?"

"Ylisse."

"…I see. I don't suppose I'll see you again, will I?"

"…" White shrugged. "Who knows."

A small smile tugged the corners of her lips. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"No more than necessary."

There was another tug in her memory: Aria and her maple pecan muffins appeared in her head. She knew that it was a clue, but Cherche couldn't piece it together.

She jumped a little when her helmet started to make a beeping noise. She had completely forgotten that she was still on the clock and hastily stood to her feet.

"It was a pleasure to finally talk to you, and to finally thank you in person for saving my life back then," Cherche smiled. "If I happen to see you again in the future, I'd like it if we could grab lunch, or a cup of coffee, together."

"If we see each other," White promised.

Cherche looked down at her drink. She wasn't even halfway done and it would be a waste to just throw away quality coffee like this.

As if he noticed her inner turmoil, White walked back over to his kitchen, pulled something from one of the cabinets, and walked back over to her. He extended his arm and in his hand was a thermos.

"Take it for your coffee."

"What? No, I couldn't possibly just take something that belongs to you!" Cherche quickly refused his offer.

"I have no need for it," White said. "It's collecting dust at this rate. It'll be of better use to you than me at this point."

Cherche looked at the thermos for a second before staring up at White's mask, right where his eyes would be. Curious; the first time that she saw the blank mask, she was unnerved by it. Now, she felt an odd sense of comfort.

"You're not going to just let this go, are you?" Cherche sighed.

White didn't say anything. Ironically enough, his silence was more than enough to serve as an answer. With another sigh, she relented.

"Very well. Thank you, for both the coffee and the thermos."

After pouring her coffee into the thermos, Cherche walked over to the door and slipped her feet back into her boots. She would never understand why the designers for the Enforcers' suits thought it a good idea to make something that's easy to put on but infuriating to take off.

Just as she wondered how she'd open a door that had no visible handle, White pushed a button on the wall. In the same manner as before, the hidden door started to open. She stepped out into the moonlight and turned around.

"It just occurred to me that we never introduced ourselves," she said. "I am Cherche Fleur, Second Commander of the Enforcers."

As the door started to automatically close, White reached up, pulling down his hood and taking off his mask. When Cherche saw his face, a gasp escaped her throat and that single memory outside the bakery finally returned. Like that missing piece of the puzzle was finally added to form the picture.

"I am Robin Alius, a simple vagabond," Robin said with the barest hints of a smile. "Though, you may know me better as 'White'." He gave her a single wave of his hand just as the door closed between them. "May we meet again, Cherche."

 ** _. . ._**


	2. Her Story: Ylisse

**Why does FF de-italicize the first quotation mark of an italicized sentence upon document transfering. Having to find and reitalicize them is a pain in the ass.**

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* * *

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It was nine months since that day. Cherche was on an air-transport to Ylisse on what was quite possibly one of the most ghastly vehicles of all time. It was rectangular in shape with multiple thrusters on one end. The door was one entire side of the ship - on the opposite end of the thrusters, in fact.

It was basically a flying box. Perhaps that's why they were called "Matchboxes". It looked like a giant, metal matchbox with the passengers being the matches, and they were only meant for low-altitude flights. They'd spontaneously combust if they even neared the altitude of commercial planes for a reason that still evaded the technicians to this day.

What a silly design and a horrifying thought. How the thing managed to stay airborne was a miracle in itself, one that Cherche didn't dare question in fear of jinxing it.

The only saving grace was the fact that there was a lot of room in the Matchbox as almost the entirety of the interior was bare. The only seats in the Matchbox were the dozen that lined either side of the walls, which were not pleasant to sit on in the slightest. Minerva was infinitely comfier.

Speaking of Minerva, her bike was being airlifted separately to the complex that she was to stay at for her mission. If there was even a single scratch on her, Cherche would hunt down those responsible and personally make their lives a living hell.

There was a sudden sense of vertigo as the Matchbox began its descent. She rose to her feet and resisted the urge to stretch her body. It was tiring having to uphold the image of the Enforcers' Commander at times. However, that didn't stop the four that accompanied her to stretch their stiff limbs and let out blissful sighs, almost as if they were mocking her.

A cold smile appeared on Cherche's face. She'd make them work extra hard during this mission.

Not letting her intentions be known to the rest of her team, she pressed the button on her case and her axe appeared in her hand. In a smooth motion, she slung it over her back, allowing it to magnetically stick on to her armor. Her fellow Enforcers did the same.

Despite the case being somehow lighter and easier to carry around, this was going to be the Enforcers' first visit to Ylisse. As such, they had to make both a good first impression and appearance.

The Matchbox slowed to a still. A few seconds later, the wall of a door began to open, slowly filling the dimly lit interior with light, and a wave of heat washed over her. By the time it was halfway open, her eyes managed to adjust to the brightness through her visor and was greeted with a grand view of Ylisse.

If Rosanne was known for its impressive skyline and cramped streets, then Ylisse was the exact opposite. Rosanne was dull and didn't have much of a variety in color, with the exception of its neon signs, while Ylisse seemed to have colorful buildings everywhere. Its buildings and houses were spread out across the entire hillside, giving her a sense of freedom. She could practically hear Minerva purring in the back of her head.

She was about to step off the Matchbox's open door when she stopped. A second later, she sighed.

Figures that she wouldn't be able to just walk off like a normal person. Instead, she'd have to drop down a good fifteen feet through a large opening on the roof of Ylisse's Enforcer Headquarters to land directly inside their building. It was a good thing that her Enforcer suit was shock-absorbent so that it could soften the landing or else she would've broken something upon her landing.

Almost as if it was rehearsed, she landed in front of five Ylissean Enforcers. Their suits consisted of white armor over a grey bodysuit instead of the black-grey palette of Rosanne's, and a minute frown marred her face upon seeing how they were lined up. Unlike how Rosanne's Enforcers would tend to line up in an organized manner, however, the Ylisseans resembled a common group of civilians with their loose postures.

There were four _thuds_ behind Cherche as her Enforcers dropped down from the Matchbox. She knew that even without her orders, her Enforcers would immediately pair up with their respective partners and stand behind her in an orderly fashion, which they did. Her training ensured it.

One of the Ylisseans walked forward as the ceiling overhead began to close. "You must be the Enforcers from Rosanne."

"That is correct," Cherche replied. "May I ask who it is that I am speaking to?"

"Of course." The man depolarized his visor, removing the dark tint. "I am Commander Chrom of the Shepherds."

Cherche raised a brow from behind her visor. "Shepherds?"

"We figured that we should change the name to something a little more people-friendly," Chrom said. "It sounds less tyrannical, and since we watch over and protect the people of Ylisse, we figured that a name change was in order. And you are?"

"I am Cherche, Second Commander of Rosanne's Enforcers," Cherche automatically said, depolarizing her visor as well. "I am here on orders from General Kryuger himself. He received a request for aid and we were sent as a response."

"Just the five of you?" a tall Shepherd by Chrom's side asked.

Cherche dangerously narrowed her eyes at the man. "The Enforcers that I brought with me today have been handpicked by myself. Even amongst the elite Enforcers, they stand a head above the rest, not to mention that I've personally trained them. The four of them were all accepted into the Enforcers in the same month and have been working together ever since. Do I need to have them prove themselves?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Chrom answered as he shot the questioning Shepherd a cross look. "Forgive Frederick's outburst. Recent times have been trying on us so tensions have been a little higher than we'd like."

Frederick gave her a light bow. "I meant no offense, ma'am. It was an idle curiosity."

She gave him a curt nod and turned to Chrom. "Shall we?"

"Of course. Frederick, if you would."

The second-in-command wordlessly brought out a black device and pressed a button, resulting in a holographic map springing to life above it. With another few button presses, multiple dots popped up across the map. From there, Chrom gave Cherche a brief rundown of Ylisse's situation and why they asked for aid.

Not unlike Rosanne, Ylisse was also plagued by gang-related problems. Unlike Rosanne, however, there was only a single gang, and a large one at that. They've been indiscriminately attacking boroughs and suburbs across the city without any rhyme or reason. They would burn down houses, loot stores and buildings, and slaughter anyone who stood in their way.

"They've recently started calling themselves the 'Branded'," Chrom said, folding his arms.

A strange marking appeared on screen that sent a chill down Cherche's spine. It looked like three sets of red eyes with a curved line running through either side. The lines joined in the center below the eyes in a criss-cross pattern. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or her imagination, but she could've sworn that the curved lines turned a dark shade of red, making it seem as if the top set of eyes were 'bleeding' into the others.

She blinked once and the marking returned normal.

"For the past few years, the Shepherd and the city garrison has been at war with the Branded," Chrom tiredly said. "It's been an uphill fight ever since the beginning until about eight months ago when we managed to recruit a tactician into our group."

"A tactician?" Cherche raised an eyebrow as she looked away from the map and at Chrom. "That's quite the specific job, given how generalized our tasks are. The Enforcers are meant to be elites, not specialists. I'm sure this is the same for the Shepherds?"

"It is, yes, but it is honestly the best way to describe what he does," Chrom explained. "He's been able to see things that we aren't able to and seems to have a plan for every situation." He let out a light chuckle. "Just last month, we caught word that the Branded were going to launch an attack on the Eleventh Ward's power factories. And the tactician? He gave me a detailed report on over a dozen possible attack routes that the Branded - "

The holo-map suddenly turned a glaring red and an alarm began blaring through the speakers. On the map, there was a blue dot that was rapidly sending out ripples around it.

It was a distress signal from an Enforcer. Cherche was all too familiar with it.

Chrom cursed under his breath and began to quickly walk towards the door when Frederick placed a hand on his chest.

"Don't stop me, Frederick! That's the Thirteenth Ward! Lissa's there!"

"I am well aware of that, Commander. However, we do not know the severity of this threat."

"Which is exactly why I'm going!"

"Which is exactly why I would advise _against_ going," Frederick calmly countered. "If the danger level is higher than expected, and should you also fall with Lissa, who will take care of your elder sister? She is already ill, and I do not think that she'll be able to handle the shock of losing both of her siblings."

The commander looked down in defeat. "Then… Then what do you suggest we do, Frederick? The Shepherds are already spread thin across Ylisse."

"If I may, Commander Chrom…" Cherche took a step forward. "…I believe this would be a prime opportunity for us Enforcers to help. We are here to assist you, after all."

"I concur," Frederick agreed, sending Cherche a brief nod of appreciation. "We asked them for aid and they answered. For them to do nothing in this situation would be a foolish decision and a waste of everyone's time."

For what seemed like an eternity, Chrom didn't say anything. The distress ripples seemed to get more urgent as the seconds trickled by, and just as Cherche was about to speak up again, Chrom let out a sigh.

"Alright." He turned to Cherche, and although his facial expression was impassive, his eyes held a pleading look to them. "Please, save my little sister."

"Consider it done," Cherche confidently replied.

As she turned to leave, she was stopped by Frederick.

"It would not do for you to walk halfway across the city," he said. "Ylisse's low buildings work to our advantage in these situations for we can take air transport throughout the city. I already called a Matchbox for you up on the roof." He turned around and pointed at two Shepherd standing against the wall. "Stahl, Sully, guide them to the landing pad and assist the Enforcers!"

The two Shepherds gave Frederick a salute. With a brisk nod towards Cherche and her Enforcers, the Shepherds left the room with Cherche and her team close behind. They navigated the labyrinth that was the Shepherd's complex and took an elevator to go up to the roof. Seconds trickled by before the elevator doors finally opened, revealing an expansive rooftop with a Matchbox ready to take flight.

Were the situation not so dire, Cherche would've stopped to appreciate the view as she sprinted across the landing pad. Ylisse was a truly a grand city.

Once she and the others jumped into the Matchbox, she hit the wall twice, signaling the pilot to take off.

"So…" One of the Shepherds with red lines across her armor moved her eyes up and down along Cherche's body. "You're the commander. Gotta say, given what I heard about you, I was expecting…something else. Not that I'm complaining. It's always nice to have another woman who can kick ass when necessary." She took off her helmet and ran a hand through her short red hair. "Name's Sully. Greenie over there is Stahl. Nice to meet you."

The second Shepherd had green markings on his armor and snapped her a salute.

"Pleasure to meet you both," she said.

"Since you're a commander, am I right in saying that you can fight well?" Sully asked.

"I am adequate enough for my position and rank," Cherche vaguely replied. "Is there any particular reason as to why you wish to know my combat capabilities?"

Sully crossed her arms and averted her gaze, giving Stahl an opportunity to speak.

"Like Commander Chrom said, we got a new tactician over half a year ago. Sully asked him for a spar the day after he joined and…well, to put it simply, he beat Sully into the ground," Stahl laughed. "Ever since then, Sully's been training to defeat him in a spar, challenging him to one every couple weeks."

"And you want to know if our Commander can defeat your tactician," one of her Enforcers, Valkyr, guessed.

"Pretty much."

"She can," Valkyr firmly said without hesitation. "She'll win."

Cherche smiled at Valkyr's words of confidence. "What can you tell me about your tactician?" she asked Sully and Stahl. "I would like to get a grasp on the kind of person he is before meeting him."

"Mm…" Stahl scratched the back of his head. "Not much to say. Honest. He doesn't really talk much, only replying when spoken to. When he does talk, he says like…one sentence. Maybe two on a good day."

A certain man with white hair and a blank mask appeared in Cherche's mind. Could it be the same person? He did say that he was moving to Ylisse nine months ago.

"What's his name?" Cherche asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Dunno. Never really asked him, he never told us." Stahl shrugged his shoulders. "I think Commander Chrom knows his name, huge emphasis on 'think', but everyone else here just calls him Tactician."

"That's…concerning, to say the least," Cherche frowned. "A man whose name you don't know and rarely speaks is your lead strategist?"

"Hasn't led us astray so far," Stahl said with a nonchalant shrug. "Besides, he's a nice guy. He gave me some pointers on fighting. Sully just doesn't like him because he's the better fighter. Oh, and because she lost every spar against him."

"It ain't my fault that he doesn't use a spear normally!" Sully heatedly countered. "Who the hell swings their spear more than they stab with it?! It's unorthodox!"

A spearman? That meant that the Shepherds' tactician and Robin were two different people, despite their similarities. It was a pity; Cherche hoped to see a familiar face aside from her Enforcers.

"We're arriving. Get ready to drop in fifteen," a voice blared through the Matchbox's intercom.

All chatter ceased immediately. Any Enforcer that was holding their helmet smoothly placed it over their head. Weapons were magnetized to the backs of their armors and they all stood by the door behind Cherche.

"Ten seconds!"

One of her Enforcers nervously cleared her throat. "I'm guessing we're doing an aerial drop, right?"

"Always in Ylisse," Sully answered.

The Enforcer paled beneath her visor. "Is this a bad time to say that I have acrophobia?"

"Five seconds!"

"When the door opens, shall I shove you off Matchbox as you close your eyes, Thalia?" another one of her Enforcers jokingly offered.

"Don't you dare, Cyrenius," Thalia growled, her blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Oh damn, Thalia's pissed~" Valkyr grinned. "She said your full name! Having fun dealing that, Cyrus!"

The Matchbox's door started to open and everyone polarized their visors. Once it was roughly halfway open, the Enforcers and Shepherd began to run forward.

"Naaahh, she loves me too much to stay mad at me," Cyrus laughed.

"Wha - !" Thalia's cheeks flushed red. "I do not - "

The girl let out a shriek when Cyrus picked her up in his arms and jumped off the Matchbox's open door alongside Cherche.

 _"What's that?!"_ Cyrus' voice crackled through her helmet speakers. _"I can't hear you over the rushing wind in my ears!"_

 _"We have a comms channel, you stubborn bastard!"_ Thalia angrily shouted.

 _"Love you too, Thalia!"_

 _"Save it for the honeymoon, you two."_

 _"Nox, I am going to hurt you after I kill Cyrus!"_

 _"See? She's already back to calling me by my nickname! Told you she wouldn't stay mad at me for long - woah woah! Careful, I'm the one that's - gah! That hurt!"_

 _"It was meant to hurt, you walnut!"_

 _"Ack! Stop punching me!"_

 _"Children."_ Cherche decided it was time to interject, though she couldn't help but smile a little. "We are on a mission. Save the antics for later."

 _"Y-Yes, Commander,"_ they said in unison.

Cherche's feet touched down on a building's roof. Her eyes immediately scanned the area as her body coiled up like a spring, ready to take evasive action if needed. Nothing happened and she slowly relaxed. Thalia was holding Cyrus off the ground by the collar by the roof's edge.

"Cordelia, Gaius, Lissa, are you there?" Sully said from beside her, speaking into her mic. "…Yeah, Frederick sent us and a few Enforcers from Rosanne here as reinforcements. Gaius, swap to Channel Two and send us a waypoint so we can locate you."

There was a bit of static from Cherche's speakers and a yellow dot appeared on her visor's HUD.

 _"…Done,"_ a male's voice said. _"Waypoint's up and swapped channels. You guys got it?"_

"Yes. Gaius, I presume?" Cherche asked into the open channel.

 _"The one and only. Who's this?"_

"Commander Cherche of Rosanne's Enforcers."

There was a choking noise from Gaius' end of the line. _"C-Commander? Crap, my bad - I mean, uhh… My apologies, ma'am."_

"Forego the formalities for now, I need a sitrep," she ordered.

 _"Alright, well…I got some good news and some bad news,"_ Gaius said. _"Cordelia and Lissa, the other members of my team, are in bad shape. Got ambushed by a group of Branded. Cordelia took a hit from a tome to protect Lissa and got knocked out like a light. We managed to push them back for now, but one of them managed to blindside Lissa as they left. Vitals are holding, but I'm not sure for how long."_

"…And the good news?"

She heard him sigh almost immediately.

 _"That was the good news._ Bad _news is that the Branded weakened the building's supports and placed charges at their base. One of them said to enjoy my last ten minutes of life, and that was just a little before I sent out the SOS, so I'd guess we have some seven…eight minutes left before the building comes down on us._ I'd 've _carried Lissa and Cordelia out, but I've got a twisted ankle, courtesy of one of the bastards."_

"…Understood. Stay put, we're coming to you."

 _"We're not going anywhere - woah! What the sh- "_

There was a loud crash from Gaius' end of the line before he disconnected abruptly. If experience taught Cherche anything, it was that Gaius was suddenly attacked by someone or something.

"Thalia, Cyrus, Nox, circle the building and watch for hostiles," she ordered. The three of them gave her a swift salute and began running off. "Valkyr, Sully, and Stahl, we're getting the trapped Shepherd out of that building."

"Lead the way, Commander," Valkyr said.

Cherche leapt off the building's roof and onto another. She almost laughed at how easy it was to traverse the rooftops of Ylisse. Compared to Rosanne's varying skyscraper heights, this was a walk in the park.

They reached the building that the trapped Shepherd were in within two minutes' time. Before her eyes finished scanning the building for a way in, Valkyr sprinted ahead and jumped through the air and entered the building through one of the broken windows.

A proud smile formed on Cherche's face. The girl always had better eyes and knew how her commander thought.

Cherche followed the Enforcer into the building and tucked her body into a roll before springing to her feet. Valkyr was already in the process of taking down a few men with a sword and shield, and by the time Sully and Stahl joined entered the building, three of her attackers were down while more were standing further into the room.

"Damned Branded," Sully growled, taking out her spear.

The Branded numbered eight in total, excluding the three that Valkyr took down. They all wore sleeveless, midnight-colored coats and a mask that had the same symbol that Chrom showed her earlier. Behind them were three Shepherd, all bound by metal wires. Judging from the lack of movement and the way they were sprawled out on the floor, they were most likely unconscious. There wouldn't be any need to bind their legs and wrists if they weren't alive.

Cherche began to cycle ideas in her head. In a straight fight, she was confident that she and Valkyr alone be able to take down the Branded without too much trouble. She'd been through worse odds in her years as an Enforcer. But it was a different story when the Branded were holding the lives of her comrades in their hands.

"Who the hell are you guys?" One of the Branded pointed a spear-tipped axe at Cherche and Valkyr. "I recognize those two behind you - been tailing us for too damned long - but you? You're new. Then again…" She saw his eyes narrow through the left and right eye sockets. "Minus the ridiculous colors, your outfit looks the same."

"Gya ha ha! You're thinkin' too much, Orton!" a second Branded cackled, wildly brandishing serrated blade. "They're all cattle! Cattle that need t' be slaughtered!"

 _"Commander, be advised: you have hostiles incoming on your position,"_ Cyrus said through the comms. _"Numbering at fifty and rising by the second. They're surrounding the building but not entering. I suggest that you get out of there as soon as possible."_

Cherche couldn't reply without alerting the Branded. She couldn't attack them either with the lives of the unconscious Shepherds at stake. It took her team roughly two minutes to arrive here after getting dropped off, so they had just under five minutes before the building would come down on itself.

She inwardly sighed at her limited options. With a plan halfway formed in her head, she clicked into the open comms channel. She'd stall what little time she had while also broadcasting everything to any Enforcer or Shepherd within a hundred meters of her location.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn't think of anything to ask the Branded members in front of her at the moment. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to since they seemed to be in some sort of internal debate amongst themselves.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we're wasting time because you wanted to come back here," the one named Orton said. "We got what we wanted already, so why not just head back? My wife and little girl are waiting for me back home!"

"A man who has his priorities straight." A third Branded sagely nodded. He was big, standing a full head taller than the others with the mass to match. "Family comes first above all else. The relic is already on its way back to the king. As should we."

 _'Relic? King?'_ Cherche frowned as she listened to the group. Perhaps Commander Chrom would have more intel on this.

"Like I'd care about any o' that!" the one with the serrated sword sneered. "All I wanna do is what I love doin, and that's - " He plunged his sword down onto one of the captured Shepherd's leg. " - BEIN' A BUTCHER!"

Cherche felt sick from just listening to the crazed man. Her hand inched towards the handle of her axe, but the tiny action did not go unnoticed by the deranged Branded member.

"Ah ah ah~" He wagged a finger at her and placed his sword near the downed Shepherd's neck. Even though he wore a mask, the fact that he had a mad grin on his face was obvious. "Wouldn't do that if I were you. Who knows? Maybe I get startled by your movements and aahh…accidentally harm your friend?"

She grit her teeth and Orton shook his head in disdain at his partner's antics.

"I'm going to be straight with you Shepherds, or whatever the two of you are," Orton tiredly sighed. "Minus Gangrel here…" He pointed at the crazed Branded. "…the rest of us just want to return home and go on with our normal lives. Is there a way for us to settle this in a civilized manner?"

"The hell are you sayin'?!" Gangrel shrieked, stepping forward and grabbing Orton by the collar. "This is the first time that I've been out in days, and you are not gonna take this away from me!"

 _"Maximize your visor's polarity,"_ a new yet somehow familiar voice suddenly said through Cherche's speakers. _"Flashbang incoming in three."_

One of the room's windows shattered as an intricate, double-ended spear made its way through and landed upright on the floor. There were a few protrusions by the spearheads, giving it a thorny and barbed look. A second later, a metal, fist-sized ball entered through the broken window and rolled towards the center of the room.

No one moved. It was as if the two items cast some sort of silencing spell on everyone as they stared at the metal ball and spear. Then Cherche remembered the stranger's warning and darkened her visor as much as she could just as the metal ball erupted in a blinding flash of light.

Even though she had her heavily tinted visor, Cherche had to strain her eyes in order to see properly. She could only imagine how the Branded were faring. They didn't have any form of eye protection and she noticed that every single one of them was covering their eyes in pain.

Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, she rushed forward to immobilize the Branded when two more Shepherd flew in through the broken window. One of the new Shepherd yanked the spear out of the ground while the other's case transformed into an elegant, golden sword. The three of them shared a quick glance before the sword-wielder began carrying the unconscious Shepherd to safety while the spear-wielder helped Cherche incapacitate the Branded within seconds.

Now that her vision was completely back to normal, Cherche got a better look at the new Shepherds. Judging from the curvature of their bodies, she took a guess that the one with the spear was a male and the other a female. Unlike the other Shepherds, these two had their armor painted steel-grey and had a white streak running diagonally across their chestplate.

One of the Branded members groaned from the ground. "The hell…?" He looked up and grunted at the spearman, "Oh. It's you."

The spearman didn't say anything as Orton pushed himself up into a sitting position. He stared at the man with expectant eyes.

"So, what now? I'm unarmed and defenseless, you've rescued your buddies, and all you gotta do is leave before the building collapses."

"…You have a daughter." It wasn't a question.

Orton's eyes narrowed dangerously and defensively. "How'd you know?"

The spearman simply tapped the side of his helmet.

"Tch, shoulda figured you'd have communications going off in a situation like this," Orton scoffed. "Yeah, I have a daughter. What of it."

The man twirled his barbed spear in his hand before magnetizing it to his back in a smooth motion. He turned his head and gave a quick nod to his companion, who tossed one of the downed Shepherds over her shoulder.

"Stahl, Sully, take Cordelia and Lissa and follow Corrin," the man instructed.

"Understood, Tactician."

The two Shepherds snapped a salute before following his orders. As they approached, the other Branded members remained still, making it easy for the Stahl and Sully to pick up their unconscious companions. After placing their companions on their back, they followed Corrin out the window, leaving behind two mildly confused Enforcers and one very confused Branded.

"What…what are you doing?" Orton asked the question that was in Cherche's head.

Tactician regarded Orton through his tinted visor. "Family comes first," he said, echoing the words of the larger Branded from earlier. He then started to leave.

"Wait a sec, you're just going to leave them?" Valkyr asked him.

"Yes."

"But he's a Branded!"

"He's a father before he's a Branded," Tactician calmly countered. "If you want to argue, put it on hold until we're clear of the building."

Without waiting for her reply, he jumped out the building and into the neighboring one. Valkyr followed him with an annoyed grunt, and Cherche was about to do the same when Orton's voice stopped her.

"Hey, lady. When you see him, tell him…" Orton took off his mask and tossed it onto the floor. "…give him my thanks, yeah?"

Cherche nodded. "I will. Happy early birthday to your daughter."

"Thanks. She'll appreciate that."

Then she turned around and left the building. Valkyr was waiting on the side of the neighbor building's wall. Twisting her body so that her body was perpendicular to the wall, she landed feet first and began scaling the building, fighting down the queasiness that she felt.

 _"Thanks for ignoring our question,"_ Cyrus said. _"It's not like we weren't concerned for our beloved Commander and friends after they went radio silent."_

"Cyrus, I already told you that we were fine and that the unknowns were allies," Valkyr said. "We were also on a different channel than our usual one, so the commander couldn't hear you in the first place."

 _"Shh shh shh, the commander doesn't know that,"_ Cyrus hushed. _"Let me guilt trip - oh, would you look at that. The building's coming down."_

The ground trembled underneath her feet, nearly throwing Cherche off the wall she was in the midst of climbing. A storm of dust was kicked up at the base of the building she just left, and it was a stroke of luck that the area was clear of civilians.

 _"Soooo… How much paperwork do you think the Shepherds' commander is going to get for this?"_ Nox asked. _"I can't imagine that a toppled building would go unnoticed, even if this does look like the rundown portion of Ylisse."_

 _"Enough for the techs to start bringing out their blueprints for Pheros' office if it happened to her. Again,"_ Thalia laughed before adding, _"How many times has she blown up her office due to her frustration over paperwork? I lost count."_

 _"Likewise. I counted to fifteen or something before I stopped,"_ Nox replied.

 _"Perks of not being a commander. No paperwork,"_ Cyrus chuckled. _"Uh…no offense, Commander."_

"None taken," Cherche smiled.

There was a bit of static as a new voice joined into the Enforcer's comm channel.

 _"Enforcers, regroup at the marked waypoint,"_ Tactician said. _"Rescue mission accomplished. We're heading back."_

Then Tactician left the channel before anyone could respond.

 _"Hmph. Not much for conversation, is he?"_ Thalia muttered. _"And I can't say that I like taking orders from someone else. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth."_

 _"You and me both,"_ Cyrus agreed. _"But hey, mission accomplished, right?"_

 _"…I guess."_

As Cherche and Valkyr soared across the Thirteenth Ward, they were joined by the rest of her Enforcers, minus one Cyrus. She managed to see Thalia kick him off a building between jumps some few blocks back.

The Matchbox was already hovering a few feet off the ground when the Enforcers arrived at the rendezvous point. The Shepherds were waiting for them and extended a hand to help the Enforcers climb inside the cabin. There was another half minute of waiting for Cyrus and then the Matchbox began to fly back towards the complex.

Cherche took off her helmet and loosened her hair with a light shake of her head. The helmet didn't weigh much, but the simple act of removing it felt like a breath of fresh air.

"You have my thanks for the timely arrival," Cherche said to Tactician. "Were it not for your intervention, I do not think that we would've been able to succeed in our task."

He turned his head and silently regarded Cherche from behind his polarized visor, giving her a strange feeling of déjà vu. A full ten seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"There's a cafe in the Seventh Ward called Remnant's Rest."

Cherche's brow furrowed in confusion. The name of a cafe was not what she expected as a reply.

"Their coffee isn't as good as Aria's, nor are their muffins, but it comes close to hers," he continued as he grabbed twisted his spear at the center. There was a click before it split in two, revealing a chain that connected the two ends. The barbs by the speartips slid down towards the center of the shaft as tips began to "extend" into a blade.

Her eyes widened in recognition at the transformed weapon: twin blades connected together by a chain. He reached up and pulled off his helmet, revealing the face beneath. The only difference in the face in front of her now and the face she saw nine months ago was the thin, pale scar on his left jawline.

"Shall we go there once you and your team get settled in?" Robin asked.

It took her a moment to find her voice. When she did, a broad grin appeared on her face. "That would be lovely."

It was a serene moment. Rather, it would have been were it not for a certain Enforcer.

"HOLY CRAP! THE COMMANDER'S FINALLY GOING ON A DATE!"

An icy smile from Cherche and a smack from Thalia shut Cyrus up instantly.

. . .

"You told me there wouldn't be any cameras."

"And _you_ told me you were going to wear something nice."

"I'm in a suit."

"That's one of the simplest suits that I've seen in my entire life."

"You told me to wear something nice, not something fancy."

Cherche shook her head as she managed to hear the bickering voices of Robin and Chrom. Honestly, they acted like two school children instead of the leaders of a renowned and elite fighting force. How they managed to keep a cordial and smiling face while being in the center of attention of hundreds of people and press was something else.

Upon a closer look, she realized that Chrom was the only one that was waving and smiling. Robin had his ever-present poker face on.

The two of them continued to go back and forth until Cherche walked up to them as her backless, indigo colored dress swayed with each step. She was aware of the looks that were being tossed her way, some haughty and others lustful, but she ignored them and greeted the two Shepherd with a warm smile.

"You look nice," she complimented, purposely using the word that they were bickering over.

"Thanks." "Thank you!"

Robin and Chrom simultaneously replied before glancing at each other, one narrowing his eyes ever so slightly and the other looking confused.

 _'Boys.'_ She shook her head.

"Commander!" Frederick maneuvered his way through the crowd. "It is almost time for your announcement."

"Right. That."

The sour look that Chrom had on his face did not go unnoticed as he followed his lieutenant across the ballroom floor, downing the rest of the champagne in his glass in one large gulp.

The musical ensemble began playing a new song. Consisting of woodwind and string instruments, including the piano, the soothing melody filled the chamber.

"I'll never truly understand why people consume alcohol," Robin idly said as he stared at the glass of champagne in his hand. "It dulls your senses, possibly causing you to make one or more irrational and illogical decisions. Even more so for social events."

"Some would say that it's an acquired taste," Cherche reasonably said. "Though, I must ask: if you don't like alcohol, then why'd you grab a glass?"

"I didn't. Chrom grabbed two from a passing footman and put one in my hand. Speaking of Chrom…" He turned his gaze across the room where his friend vanished behind a door. "It's times like this that I'm glad I'm not a public figure. Less annoyances and responsibilities."

"Well, I'm just glad that I'm just a visiting commander and not the commander in charge," Cherche said with complete earnesty.

"A visit that lasts over a year?" he questioned.

"I suppose it's not completely impossible to happen," she softly laughed. "How are Morgan and Marc?"

Robin began walking across the floor and motioned for her to follow, to which she complied. She ignored the furtive glances that were being tossed their way as she matched his stride.

"Growing fast. Dislike school. Both took up a liking for tactics and strategy."

A smile appeared on Cherche's lips. "Well, it's like they say, right? Like father like son and daughter."

"Adoptive," he reminded her.

"But a father nonetheless," she firmly replied. "Robin, you took them under your wing years ago when they were only a couple months out of infanthood. Biological or not, _you_ are their father. It only makes sense that they'd pick up a thing or two."

They walked out onto one of the half-dozen balconies, escaping the golden room and into the cool night. The moon was hanging low in the sky, casting a silver glow over them.

"Perhaps." There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes when he turned his head. "They still call you 'Flower Lady' when you're not around."

"Of course," she lightly laughed, remembering the nickname she received upon her first meeting with the twins.

Robin leaned forward onto the balcony railing, taking care to not drop his glass as he stared at the brilliant lights that was Ylisse's nighttime. "Did I ever tell you how I joined the Shepherds?"

"No, you haven't. I never asked, so you never told me," Cherche humorously said. "Isn't that your usual answer to such things?"

"Indeed," Robin replied with a tiny tug of his lips. "Put simply, I sent Chrom and ten other Shepherds to the infirmary in the span of fifteen minutes."

For a brief moment, it was as if the world froze over.

"…Beg pardon?" she managed to choke out.

"During the ship ride to Ylisse, I won a bet against a gambler in a game of chess. My win was a pepper."

Perhaps it was due to the dim lighting from the moon, but Cherche could've sworn that he smirked for a fraction of a second.

"It wasn't just any pepper either. It was a Devil's Blight. A bag of it, in fact, holding a dozen." Robin tipped his glass backward and drank half of his champagne before speaking once more. "Not long after arriving in Ylisse, Chrom finds me taking a nap under a tree, I decide to help him clear a small village of Branded members, and then I'm introduced to the Shepherds at a tavern."

At this point, Cherche could guess where the story was headed.

"Chrom wanted me to join the Shepherds. I wanted to stay a vagabond. So I told Chrom that if he could eat an entire Devil's Blight pepper without drinking or eating anything to ease the pain and last fifteen minutes in those conditions, I'd join the Shepherds. Of course, I'd participate under the same conditions as well.

"What ended up happening was that every other Shepherd at the time, sans one Frederick, wanted to try the Devil's Blight like the fools they were and still are. I even warned them. The only Shepherd that lasted was Chrom, who promptly passed out the second the fifteen minutes were up."

Cherche couldn't stop the laugh that was building up and it was let loose. Were she on the ballroom floor, she would've no doubt received looks of disapproval from the more arrogant members of the gala. Fortunately for her, the only ones on the balcony were her and Robin, who didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"Frederick thought I poisoned all the Shepherds when he saw Chrom and the other incapacitated Shepherds, and tried to skewer me on the spot," Robin casually continued, as if getting threatened to get speared was an everyday occurrence. "It took the words of everyone else in the tavern and the few conscious Shepherd to convince him of my innocence. After that, Frederick called the medical team and carried Chrom out of the bar in the same manner a prince would carry a princess.

"When I tried to pay the barkeep, he waived the bill, saying that the entertainment was payment. Truth be told, I was going to put it on Chrom's tab since I was technically a Shepherd at that point, but the barkeep was insistent, so I relented. Lucky for Chrom and his wallet."

It took some time for Cherche to control her laughter. "And you were fine?"

"Devil's Blight is only the sixth spiciest pepper. I've had worse," he replied. He spoke in such a nonchalant manner that it was as if he was merely talking about the weather. "I also happen to like spicy foods."

"How come no one ever mentioned this before?" Cherche asked. "It would - is a great story to bring up on occasion."

Robin shrugged. "It's an embarrassing moment for all of them. I'm sure they want to keep it under wraps for as long as they live." He shook his head. "Unfortunately for them, I was quite sober that night and happen to have a good memory. It also makes for fantastic blackmail material on Chrom specifically since I took a photo of him being carried out."

"My my, Robin, you are much more devious than I thought!" Cherche giggled.

"Tools of the trade. I was taught to 'use anything and everything at your disposal to achieve victory while setting a hard line - a moral limit.' Chrom's lack of willpower to stay conscious from a pepper does not cross that line, nor does the fact that he was princess-carried out cross it."

She laughed again as a muffled cheer escaped the ballroom floor from behind them. Her laughter faded when she saw the miffed look on his face upon hearing the cheers. "What's wrong?"

He raised an eyebrow at her in response.

"Come now, Robin." She lightheartedly rolled her eyes at him. "I've worked alongside you for almost fifteen months. I'd be a fool to not have learned the nuances that are your tells. Granted, the changes in your body language are minute, so much so that most wouldn't catch it, but I've learned them over time.

"For example, when you're feeling uncomfortable…" Cherche reached up and gently poked his brow. "…a light crease appears on your brow and your shoulders become a bit stiffer than usual. And when you're annoyed, the crease is there again, but instead of your shoulders being stiff…" She dragged her finger down and placed it on the corner of his lips. "…your usual frown deepens by a margin."

"I didn't realize I was so easy to read," he said as she retracted her arm.

"You're not. Far from it, actually. As I said, it's only due to the amount of time that we knew each other that I'm able to read your body language, only…" Cherche pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't tell you how infuriating it was for the first few months working with you. It's not that you lack emotion; you have plenty of it from what I've learned, it's just that you don't express your emotions clearly.

"In any case, you didn't answer my question. What's bothering you?"

There was a flicker of irritation in Robin's eyes before he spoke. "Politics. 'Royalty' trying to butter me up with fake smiles plastered on their faces. People with a thirst for power trying to pull me into their family or branch to use my name for their personal gain."

"Ah."

Cherche nodded in understanding. She had seen dozens of men and women approach Robin over the night, the latter group usually wanting a dance. Of which she completely understood. He was in an extravagant black suit with golden linings and wore a silken, dark purple shirt underneath, all complete by a silvery-grey tie. To say that he looked simply attractive would be an understatement, especially under the gala's golden lighting.

"Most men would be happy to have multiple women fawning over them," she teasingly said, ignoring the ugly feeling that welled up in her stomach.

"I'd like to think I'm not like most men, but then again, that's just my opinion," Robin calmly replied, taking a sip of his champagne. "And every single woman that talked to me tonight only did so for their own benefit, always having something to do with their avarice. The only exceptions were the Enforcers and some of the Shepherds." His head then tilted ever so slightly as he looked at her. "What of you?"

She felt the beginnings of a migraine form in her head as she was reminded of the past few hours. "Not unlike yours, I'm afraid. I lost count of the men who made an attempt to court me over the night."

" _'Attempt'_?"

"My rank in the Enforcers and physical capabilities discouraged the curious"

There was a sense of accomplishment when she noticed the slight tug on Robin's lips. "One would think to know the faces of the five Enforcers from Rosanne over the course of fifteen months, especially the commander. The very same commander that spearheaded the assault against the Branded's base and cut off the head of the snake, so to speak."

"Apparently, not everyone is well informed," she giggled before jokingly adding, "Though I guess today is a good example of what men find attractive and not attractive. Clearly, a woman that holds a fighter's occupation is not wanted, not to mention calluses on my hands nor the scars that mar my skin."

"That's because they have no taste in women."

…What?

It was only due to her years of training and discipline as an Enforcer that kept her from being completely floored by Robin's statement. However, it was not enough to prevent the heat from rising to her cheeks.

"Oh my, Robin!" Cherche covered her mouth in surprise and laughed to ease away the red on her face. Then confusion settled into her features as he wordlessly stared at her. His expression was one that she only saw a handful of times, and due to this, she was unable to read his rare expression. "What is it?"

A new song began to play, this time only consisting of the piano and strings.

"It's a good song that's playing right now. _'Violet Snow'_." He downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass onto the railing. After making sure that it wasn't so precariously placed for it to fall, Robin placed one arm behind his back before extending his other arm towards her with a slight bow. "May I have this dance, Lady Fleur?"

For the second time in a single minute, the taciturn man in front of her managed to catch her off guard. Unlike before, however, she managed to keep her composure and took his hand in hers with a smile that could've lit up the entire gala.

They didn't bother walking back into the building. To Cherche, the moonlit balcony was far more beautiful than the most grandiose of dance floors.

. . .

Cherche leaned against the wall as the earth violently shook for the second time. For all of its splendor and fame, for all of the protection it had from the Enforcers and Shepherd, Ylisse was no match for nature's wrath.

"And there's the aftershock," Nox said from beside her.

Screams tore through the air from the distance as one of Ylisse's taller buildings began to sink into the ground.

"And that's the beginning of the aftermath," Cyrus added. "What's that, the next Ward over? Are we in the Fifth or Sixth Ward?"

"Hold a sec, something's wrong there…" Valkyr muttered, her eyes narrowing.

At first, Cherche didn't see what was wrong. And then it clicked.

"There's no smoke or dust," Thalia realized. "A damn building collapsed. Why isn't there any smoke?"

 _"The answer to that, my good Enforcer, is because a sinkhole opened up here in Sixth,"_ Gaius said through the comms. _"Swallowed up the entire building like a stick of candy - woah!"_

The earth rumbled once more as the channel suddenly cut off. A large plume of smoke began rising from the direction of the fallen building, and Gaius' voice returned a second later.

 _"Who was it that asked why there wasn't any smoke? Yeah, wish granted. Stupid building finally hit the bottom of the hole."_

"Anyone hurt?" Chrom asked.

 _"Uhh, gimme a sec."_ Gaius trailed off as he muttered a few names, most likely counting heads from his location. _"…No, I think we're all here. Civilians were_ evac'd _before the building toppled, thank the gods, but - wait…"_

A sense of dread crept up Cherche upon hearing the worry in Gaius' voice.

 _"No…no, no, no!"_ Gaius' tone grew louder and more frantic with each word. _"Stahl, Sully! Did one of you see Robin leave the building?!"_

Cherche was driving down the streets of the Fifth Ward and towards the Sixth before Gaius even finished speaking, ignoring the cries of her fellow Enforcers.

 _"Robin, do you copy?_ _Respond, that's an order!"_ Chrom's voice was laced with worry, but there was no reply from the tactician. _"Damn it! Cordelia, get on the Matchbox and bring the civies to First! Any Shepherd that's able, get to…"_

Cherche tuned out the voices as she focused on driving. She drove swiftly but not recklessly, maneuvering Minerva between traffic and taking the roads that were usually less populated. Within minutes, she arrived at the sinkhole.

Parking Minerva a safe distance away, she ran forward to the hole's edge. It was wide, easily having swallowed up the entire block. It was not nearly as deep as she was expecting either. The building had broken apart as it fell, giving her the sense that the sinkhole matched the building's height from a distance. The drop that she took upon her initial arrival to Ylisse was higher than this.

Throwing caution to the wind and not noticing the Shepherd on the other end of the sinkhole, she jumped down and landed safely on the broken ground below. A plume of dust erupted upon her landing, and she quickly held her breath and fanned the dust away with her hand. When it cleared, she saw rubble and debris of varying sizes covered the ground, and there was a set of six eyes on the far wall.

"Never thought I'd be back down in the Branded's headquarters," Cherche muttered. "Even after being disbanded months ago, they still cause problems."

Depolarizing her visor, she looked around the room. It all looked the same no matter where she looked: piles of grey and black debris with metal pipes sticking out here and there. A broken desk was half-buried in the dirt in one corner of the room, a crumpled car had broken through one of the walls, a helmet was lying at the base of one of the many dirt piles, and there was even a -

Her head snapped back at the helmet at a speed that should've broken her neck. The helmet that she was looking at was the same design as the one that belonged to Enforcers and Shepherds. If that was down here, then that meant…

She ran forward and picked up the helmet. Rotating it to look at its left side, Cherche recognized the scratch that ran down the plating. She was the one that caused it during a friendly spar with Robin over a year ago. Rotating it a little further, she saw a small, childish drawing of a feather, further solidifying the fact that the helmet belonged to Robin. He told her that Morgan was the one that drew it the first day he received the helmet.

If the helmet was here, that that meant that the owner would be nearby. Holding onto Robin's helmet, she walked a little further behind a pile of rubble, and sure enough, there he was, lying face down on the ground.

"Robin!" Cherche ran up and gently turned him over onto his back. Just as she was about to check for a pulse, he weakly groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open.

"…Cherche…?"

She let out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness you're alright."

"I think…gods, that hurts…I think that's putting it…putting it lightly," Robin said between breaths. "Pretty sure I've got a broken bone. Or two. Or a dozen."

Cherche exasperatedly shook her head as she sat down beside him. As much as she wanted to help him up, she knew that moving his body in its current state would do more harm than good. An elixir might also help, but at the same time, it could also close wounds that may or may not have debris stuck inside of them. The lead pipe sticking out of his leg didn't help either.

Figuring that it'd be best to wait for the medical team to arrive, Cherche set up a waypoint for the others to locate them.

"Hey."

"Yes, Robin?"

"You think I'll have to go to the hospital?"

She looked at him as if he just sprouted a second head. "Yes… I think you'll have to go to one."

"Hmm. I see."

"Is there a problem with you going to a hospital?"

A second of silence passed. "…I don't like them."

Another silence. "Pardon?"

He tilted his head to look at her with a serious face. "They all smell weird inside and doctors creep me out. Field medics, I'm okay with, but there's just something about people in scrubs and pristine, white coats that creep me out. And the needles. Especially the needles"

Had anyone else said such a thing, Cherche would've thought them to be joking. But since she was so familiar with Robin, she was able to read his facial expression and concluded that he was being completely serious at the moment.

And then she burst into laughter. It was terrible, really. Here was a man that had a genuine dislike of doctors and hospitals, and yet she was laughing at him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be poking fun at that," she managed to say between gulps of air. "But to hear you say that you, the stoic tactician of the renowned Shepherd, dislike doctors and needles of all things while half-buried in rubble?"

Just as she began to get a hold on her laughter, she heard Robin chuckling as well as him saying something along the lines of, "Ow, it hurts to laugh". That only caused her to start laughing once again. After roughly a minute, both she and Robin managed to calm themselves and settled into a comfortable silence.

"Hey, Cherche?" Robin angled his head to look at her.

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

The world fell silent as his words registered in her ears. For a brief moment, she thought that she misheard him, for that was how nonchalantly he said it. It was the same tone that he used when he would ask her if she wanted cream and sugar in her coffee, which was a stark contrast to the weight of his words.

And in that same manner, despite her surprise and shock, she gave him her answer.

"I'd like that."

Robin nodded once before closing his eyes. "Okay."

It was funny, in a way. Here she was, getting proposed to in a manner that was quite possibly the furthest from romantic as possible, from a man who was practically half dead and sprawled out on a pile of rubble, and yet…

A soft giggle escaped her lips. "And yet, it just feels…right."

. . .

Cherche felt a soft blanket wrap around her shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked up, smiling at the man in front of her.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Robin asked.

She shook her head. "It's fine. I was just telling Morgan a story."

"She fell asleep around the time you first met Morgan and Marc," he said. "You followed her not long after."

"Did I?" Cherche frowned. She didn't remember falling asleep.

Robin walked and gently picked up Morgan. As if sensing her father's warmth, she immediately snuggled into his chest. A second later, a small smile appeared on his face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Just remembering the first time that Morgan called you 'mom'," he replied.

She nodded, remembering the fond memory. It happened on accident, taking everyone by complete surprise. Morgan mistook her stunned silence as one of anger and discomfort, and began to apologize when Cherche crushed the girl in a tight embrace. She never really knew that she wanted to be called their mother until that moment, and cherished every moment that she was referred to as such.

"I'll put her in bed. You coming?"

"I think I'll stay here a little longer," Cherche replied, picking up her book. "I'm just getting to the good part of it."

With a single nod, Robin walked out of the room with their daughter. Her gaze lingered on the doorway for a few seconds even after he vanished behind it.

"It's your favorite story, you said," Cherche softly murmured. "It's my favorite as well."

 ** _. . ._**

* * *

 _ **. . .**_

 **For all my love of Cherche, I never really wrote a story centered on her. Until now. Only took me like…almost two years on this site.**

 **And the backstory to this was essentially a "cut-content" type of deal from a novel I'm writing. Didn't want it to go to waste, so I fiddled with it a little, made the world sci-fi, added a few things here and there, and here this came out.**

" **Why aren't there any firearms in a sci-fi world"? Because plot.**

 **In all seriousness, since my original story is set in a more medieval-fantasy world, not unlike Fire Emblem, firearms weren't a concept. That being said, magic doesn't exist in "Her Favorite Story" either, so having to think of a way to have Tomes in "Her Favorite Story" was probably one of the hardest things to do when writing this out.**

 **As per my usual stories, easter eggs:**

 **\- Transforming weapon briefcases || Tokyo Ghoul  
\- White Lotus || Avatar: The Last Airbender  
\- Minerva (bike) || Fenrir from FF7  
\- Thalia || Percy Jackson and the Olympians || Who's Cyrus, you may ask? …Who knows. I may or may not being writing a PJO one-shot.  
\- Remnant's Rest || Shepherd's Rest (shameless self-ad and reference here)  
\- A quick banter from Halo 2 between Chief, Johnson, and Cortana  
\- Violet Snow || Violet Evergarden**


End file.
